


Apartment 49

by staircase



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Artist Alec Lightwood, Bottom Magnus Bane, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Therapist Magnus Bane, Top Alec Lightwood, alec lightwood - Freeform, magnus bane - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 06:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19739755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staircase/pseuds/staircase
Summary: He’s tall and unlike anything Magnus has faced before. Full of answers that Magnus seeks for all under his intriguing exterior and the door of apartment 49.





	1. Chapter 1

Magnus' eyes frantically run over the several faces passing him at a fast pace. He's never been a big fan of crowds and seemingly has underestimated how big of a crowd an open book club can get. Free books attract, he assumes. 

His heel bounces up and down, creating a soft thud against the carpet he's standing on. Blame it on the amount of caffeine he's consumed in 12 hours or his hatred towards crowds, maybe an unbalanced blend of both. Magnus has been waiting for his friend's attendance for over twenty minutes, himself to blame partly for always being early. 

His friend is Catarina. She works at the library as a volunteer who's paid free books that satisfy her book worm trait. Now, there's a book club (which happens two times a month and there's usually like three people) but this time, they're giving away some new best-selling authors' books. The way Magnus sees it is that these days every author is a New York Times best-selling author. 

The bounce of his limb halts as he catches a glimpse of an all too familiar jacket with a ripped shoulder pad. He'd recognise it anywhere, knowing he's the one who accidentally caused the fabric to rip. Catarina's figure approaches him fast, the woman has always been fast-paced, even on her heels. 

''Where have you been?'' Magnus mutters as soon as Catarina's close enough, his brows pulled into a tiny glare. ''You're ten minutes late.'' He hates to be a pain in the ass but being on time is the only thing Magnus asks from Catarina and even after twenty years of being friends, she's never full-filled his wish. 

''I'm sorry, got caught up on my hair, again,'' she says and Magnus shrugs it off, ''Come on, it's about to start any minute. It's like this place is filled with small ants.''

''Tell me about it,'' he whispers, nearly clinging against Catarina as she drags them past the crowd, a few times stating in a rather aggressive manner how she's the supervisor of the event to anyone who attempts to push her back into the crowd. 

Magnus stays in between the shelves where it's empty of people, listening to some female read the book. The book blabbers ongoingly about the inseparable bond between science, mathematics and visual arts and how at the end of all existence they co-exist. Magnus likes the unrealistic idea of it all but can't help finding the book as a load of crap. 

Even though he dislikes the whole concept, Magnus can't help but caress the book with gentleness after the event. The crowd has mostly dissolved, only a few copies of the book remaining in the selling shelves. Magnus is just as much going to take one home, maybe re-read it in silence and re-consider his opinion. Besides, it's a free book that usually retails for $40, he would never decline such an offer. 

''You like it?'' Magnus flinches, zooming out of his spaced interest on the book. His head snaps to the side, totally aware of how fast his heart is beating. Magnus hates sudden noises, loud ones especially. 

''Uhm,'' Magnus exhales, chuckling softly at his momentarily panic, ''No, actually. Do I know you?'' He asks, eyeing the man in front of him who he doesn't recall ever seeing. 

''No, you don't,'' he says, tattooed arms holding a book identical to Magnus', ''What don't you like about it?'' 

Magnus shrugs, ''Just the not so realistic aspect of it. It seems rather like... Hopeful wishing, I guess,'' he explains, clearing his throat, ''Hopefully, I'm not offending a super-fan. I mean no harm.''

The guy nods, an inky strand slightly falling to his face, ''Non-taken,'' he says, ''You're still taking one home?''

''Yes. I find that you only get the truth of a book once you can remember the book. One read, especially when it's not me who read it but heard it, isn't that trustable.'' 

''I agree,'' the man says. Magnus' skin crawls in the slightest way possible, his gut telling something's off about the guy and that maybe he's seen him somewhere, ''Well, I've got to get going. Enjoy your book, yeah?''

Magnus only nods, watching him go. There's something oddly familiar with him as if he's a remittance of someone Magnus knows. Or used to, at least. Maybe it's the attractive outlook that Magnus is always drawn to in men. 

He shrugs off the feeling, deciding to refuse from thinking about it. He's always had a trait to overthink and analyze people and occurs, maybe even to an unhealthy limit. If there even are things such as limits, Magnus isn't good at drawing ones. 

He buys a few other books before going out of Catarina's way, who always stays after book clubs. She says it's to just chat with the staff and that Magnus should go because he doesn't enjoy social interaction but Magnus knows it's not like that. Catarina says to clean and make coffee and other things that apparently better her karma for the next life. 

Magnus is eager to complete his nightly ritual to self peace. It sounds fancier than it is, he only drinks tea and reads books. Maybe throw in an episode or two of House. If specified, it's not really his night time routine. It could also qualify as his day to day basis routine, seeing it's what he does from morning to night. Magnus loves how New York gets dark. Any place gets dark but Magnus has never been outside his hometown. He's sure he'd love it somewhere else, too. Something about darkness lighted by city lights and small corner shops gets his serotonin pumping. 

The warmth of his apartment lobby tickles his face as soon as he gets in. He already starts to strip down his jacket, Magnus always takes the stairs. The elevator looks like the possibilities of it crashing at any minute are high. Magnus is half dead by the time he gets to the fourth floor, his floor. Dear apartment 47, that has suffered three water leaks in a year. He fiddles with the keys for a little while, the bundle weights more than his wallet. Not because he has a lot of keys, he only has one, but because he collects keychains from other cities. Magnus doesn't travel, Catarina does. She always brings him a keychain, no matter if it's a new city or a country. 

He unlocks the lock, welcoming in the scent of vanilla that looms out through the smallest crack. 

''Hey -''

Magnus flinches for the second time of the day, frustration coursing through him the quick beats of his heart. He turns around, huffing. ''Are you following me?'' 

The guy from the book club frowns and throws Magnus a smirk, one that could be accused of being loathing, ''No. I live here. Apartment 49,'' he says, hands defensively up as he walks in front of the door opposite from Magnus'. 

''Oh.'' Like mentioned, Magnus is ab expert in overthinking stuff. And connecting his thoughts to over the line thrillers. ''Have a fun night, then,'' he says. The man looks like someone who specializes in fun nights, those of drinking and naked women in particular. 

''You as well. I assume you'll be reading the book for a second time?'' He fiddles with keys or rather a singular key hatched from a pocket in his wallet. ''I'm Alec, by the way. Funny how we've never crossed paths.''

''Magnus,'' Magnus says, softly and quietly, brows pulled down together in deep thought. ''Some paths aren't meant to be crossed.''

Alec, or whoever, stares at Magnus in an intense halt as if taking his time to let the words sink in, ''Yes, I suppose so. You should've participated in the book club discussion about the book.''

''How so?'' Magnus opes his door slightly more, few chills running up his arms, ''I'm perfectly competent on evaluating a book's worth on my own.''

''Singular minds don't always latch onto the smallest details,'' Alec says, opening his own door. ''If you need an outsiders opinion, my doors just opposite of yours.'' He steps into the apartment, facing Magnus with a playful smirk. 

''No, thank you,'' Magnus says, in a stiff motion turning around to slam his door closed and hide in the safety of his own apartment. His muscles have clammed up, maybe from the coldness of the hallway or maybe from a new interaction, he can't point a finger on it. 

It takes a few minutes of making his tea and closing his windows until Magnus is back to being calm and composed. It's not often he's thrown off of his serene state, perhaps it could be the neighbours striking beauty or maybe he's a serial killer waiting to hunt down Magnus, who really knows? 

He spends the night eyeing the book from the library, not daring to touch or read it. Even the book now manages to give him shivers for no known reason. Magnus settles down on his couch, reads another book and drills down to Netflix's deepest corner to find good movies to watch with his tea and cat.  
What a life.


	2. Chapter 2

'' _The line between something so opinionated is never fine, there is no such thing as a clear signature over a tract._ See, what does that even mean? It makes minus no sense.''

Magnus has been stomping around his apartment for an hour, at least. He's trying to let the warming sunlight and the calm breeze clear his hazing confusion over the words written before him. So far, they've done nothing in his favor.

''Magnus, I already told you, I don't know,'' Catarina says at the other line of the phone. It's the same words she's been repeating for however long the conversation has been going on. An extremely one-sided conversation, Magnus has concluded. It's just him blabbering on about how the book is filled with nonsense.

''Yes, I know. This whole – Dale, if that's even the author's name, seems like a guy spitting words to get money. It makes no sense,'' he's repetitive, another thing he hates in people. ''The book is driving me insane.''

''So? Put it down and read another book. One you can understand,'' Catarina says. She always has simple solutions, simple but genius ones that Magnus' mind never even considers. Or accepts, he seems to turn every good idea Catarina has down. Total rejection.

''What? No. That's what quitters do,'' Magnus says, agitated. He huffs out, sitting down on his couch. ''It's just a book. I'll figure it out, even if it talks about murder and painting being friends.'' 

Catarina chuckles. ''I know it's... Odd but it really is just a book, like you said. There's nothing to be locked down. It's like fiction, everyone has their own view on it and no one's right.''

''You make no sense. Oh my god, you're becoming the book. Maybe it's witchcraft? I know I always tell you it's bullshit but I – it's the only logical explanation -''

''Or then this is just something you don't figure out in a day. You can be wrong, too. Stop therapizing the book,'' Catarina says. ''Look, I have to go but I'll come by later?''

''You're becoming the book,'' Magnus whispers at her with a somewhat playful tone, ''I'll see you later, yeah? Try to spear your kind heart, someone will steal it.''

''Bye.'' Catarina laughs before the line cuts off.

Magnus settles down the book. The stupid dark blue covers have been hunting him, he can still feel the rough texture on the tip of his fingers. Magnus can't seem the point a finger why he's so obsessed over the book, maybe it is because he can't seem to figure it out. He always figures stuff out.

Magnus is pulled out of his dreaming by a loud sound from the hallway. The building is old and the walls are thin but Magnus is sure the sound would pass thick walls. He gets up from the couch, walking to the door with his hand circling around the doorknob. He probably shouldn't open the door because curiosity killed the cat. But Magnus still opens the door the slightest since satisfaction brought the cat back, he thinks.

It's the guy from apartment 49, turning around to face where the click of the sound comes from – Magnus' door. He's there alone, which to Magnus is peculiar, considering the sound could've been anything from a book dropping onto the floor to a human body being slammed against a wall.

The guy, who Magnus recalls as Alec but first names are always too personal to him, turns to Magnus. ''Stalking me?''

Magnus can recognize a playful smirk when he sees one so he ignores the question, ''What was that?'' He asks in return.

''What was what?'' Alec asks, smile widening as he walks to his door. ''I don't know what you're talking about. The sound probably came from downstairs.''

''I didn't say anything about a sound,'' Magnus replies, staring at him far more intensely than he wants to.

Alec shrugs, ''Doesn't take much to deduce. I heard it as well.''

''Okay,'' Magnus says. Maybe he's being paranoid, thinking his neighbour would have anything to do with it. And even if he did, what would the noise be about? Something dropping to the ground? Happens to the best of us. ''Okay,'' Magnus repeats, giving Alec a last glance before turning around to his apartment.

''Have you read the book?''

Magnus halts. It's been seventy-three hours since he last encountered Alec when he asked about the book. Maybe Alec's bad at talking or maybe he's stuck with the book just as much as Magnus.

''Why do you keep asking?'' Magnus asks, turning back around and opening his door wider, ''Are you having trouble with the book?''

''You have a habit of answering a question with a question,'' Alec says. ''But no, I'm only interested about your trouble with the book.''

''I don't have trouble with the book,'' Magnus lies, clenching his jaw.

Alec shrugs, ''Very well. If you need some clearance, I'll be just the opposite. You know what they say, the unexamined life isn't worth living.''

''What Socrates said. Not they,'' Magnus corrects, eyeing the tips of his socks.

''Smart, too,'' Alec hums, unlocking his lock.

''No, I just know how to read,'' Magnus says, his glare now on Alec, who Magnus feels has opposed some sort of threat.

''That's what we all say,'' Alec says, ''Anyway, like I said. I'll be just here. Unless you really don't have any trouble with the book, of course.''

Magnus doesn't say anything. He steps away from the door, slams it closed harder than usual. He's not sure what it is about the guy that agitates him far more than any other human ever. Maybe it's his looks or the fact that Magnus has never engrossed with him before. He would've noticed if someone would've moved there recently but he hasn't.

Magnus packs his shoulder bag, an old thing that usually consists of his phone, keys, a pepper spray and a good book. All four items which could be used as a weapon if necessary.

He jumps down two stairs at a time until he's down. Nearly out of the door, he notices the mailman who Magnus can admit is a nice company. Maybe because they only ever speak for a minute and the guy has a big mouth.

''Magnus, hey,'' he says that stops Magnus, ''I haven't seen you in a while.''

Magnus tosses him a smile, ''Nothing there for me then. Anything today?'' He asks, eyeing the stack of paper.

''There sure is. A lot, letters mostly,'' he says, handing him three letters, all in the same golden envelope. ''You know, I like these. Glittery and all. Would do good Christmas cards.''

''Yeah,'' Magnus says. ''Do you have any mail for apartment 49? Alex or Alec?''

The man has a big mouth as Magnus mentioned. ''Alexander Lightwood? Yead, dude gets a lot of stuff every time. Kinda like that woman from the second floor, she has a big stack of different cat magazines and it takes me five minutes to get them through,'' he laughs. ''Why do you ask?''

''I know it's not my business but how long have you been giving him mail?'' Magnus asks, trying to not sound so suspicious but perhaps he's failing.

''Uh, I don't know. Eight months, maybe?''

''Okay. I just ask because I didn't realize someone lived there. I always thought it's empty until I saw Mr Lightwood leave the apartment a few days ago,'' he lies with a shrug.

The mailman nods, ''He usually opens the door to receive the mail. It's kinda creepy but he's alright, all smiles and small talk.''

''That's nice,'' Magnus says, ''Well, I've got to get going. Have fun, use the stairs,'' he hollers before jogging out of the building. He takes a quick glance at the envelopes as he makes his way to his favorite coffee shop. The name Lorenzo is written in old letters on the left corner, like always.

He sits down, gets his usual. Magnus can never seem to look like an adult when he opens Lorenzo's letters, maybe more like a child on Christmas. He fiddles them open, careful not to spill the iced latte on them.

Magnus name is the first thing he scans on the paper.

_''Magnus,_

_I don't know when you'll get there. The family is in a haze, again. The day is coming up again and they grieve more and more every year. It would help if you were here but I understand that you're not, why you left. And it's all forgiven. I think you've pleaded for forgiveness more times than you have done wrong for. I hope to hear from you again. It's been a long few months and I know you always wonder how we are. The rest of them will come around, I promise. Clary, at least. Give it time. Sometimes giving it time means years but time is all we have in our hands in this life.''_

Magnus frowns, the two envelopes are filled with pictures of his family and old home. Memories he refuses to let resurface as he pushes them down the drain he calls his mind. He shoves them into his bag, not even considering writing back. He usually doesn't, only if it's for a special occasion.

Magnus takes his time sipping his drink and watching the grey tinted sky. He loves the sky, let it be night or day, a sky never disappoints him. Usually, Magnus likes to update himself on what time it is. He doesn't own a wristwatch but he does own a phone which he checks to see what time is on a regular. Past these few days, the time hasn't really mattered. He's off his job for a week, a therapist calls a vacation therapeutic, too. Magnus isn't a normal therapist, whatever that means. He doesn't council divorcing couples or struggling high schoolers but former killers and whatnots trying to get better. Magnus doesn't believe the majority of them want to get better, he believes the want extra credits to lessen their jail time.

It takes him a few more drinks and a text from Catarina to get him up from his seat. Catarina is truly one of the few, if not the only one, he has decided to associate himself with. On a literal daily basis.

She's already standing behind his door when he makes it back to the building. He should give her a key, it's been on his mind for some time. Perhaps he likes his peace a little too much.

''Hi, been here for long?'' He asks, looking at Caarina cuddled up in her jacket and scarf.

''Long enough,'' Catarina says with a tiny, humorous chuckle. Magnus cracks a smile, letting them both into his apartment and warming them both tea. ''How's the book going?''

Magnus turns to her, ''I don't want to talk about the book,'' he says, ''It has become the centre of my attention past these few days and honestly, fuck it. It's just a book, that author Dale Hero of whatever doesn't know what he's talking about.''

Catarina laughs, maybe a little too uncontrollably. ''I'm glad that's your conclusion. Hopefully, your actions will follow your words.''

''Words of wisdom, let me tell you,'' Magnus says, handing Catarina her cup of tea before sitting down. ''I just – I don't know. I despise not understanding something. Especially, because I don't know if the book really is just full crap or if I'm just stupid.''

''Could be neither. You of all people should know there's always more than two answers to something like this,'' Catarina says.

''I suppose so,'' Magnus hums, ''Anyway, how was work? I already might know the answer but it never hurts to ask.''

They blabber on until the night sky visible from Magnus' balcony doors starts to turn dark. That's always their cue, like a sign to start their nightly ritual. They get up, spend fifteen minutes laughing on their feet until Magnus walks Catarina downstairs, waits for her taxi and talks in the phone with her throughout the whole ride. Not that he doesn't trust taxi drivers, he just doesn't trust taxi drives. After that he lets Catarina go, wishes her goodnight and gets on with his night.

The book on his table still annoys him. Magnus can't seem to get his mind off of it, constantly brought back to it by the smallest of reminders. Like, when he came back up and passed apartment 49. Or stood in front of it, really

_Anyway, like I said. I'll be just here._

Magnus isn't sure if it's curiosity or temptation. If he wants answers or if he wants to hear strangers awfully seducing voice again. He spends his time staring at his own door before grabbing the book in an aggressive manner and stomping to it.

He spends at least five minutes in front of it. And another five minutes with his fist in the air before he knocks on Alec's door.

It opens only moments later, firstly a neutral facial expression greeting Magnus, transforming into a confused frown for a second until Alec's usual sly smirk spreads over his face. As much as Magnus tries to maintain eye contact, he blames it on human nature that his eyes take in Alec's black jeans and how they fit with his black turtle neck. Stupid necklaces have never looked better

''Not that the book is a dead giveaway,'' Alec says, smiling widely. ''Welcome.''

Magnus passes Alec with a glare. His apartment doesn't fit Alec, not that Magnus knows him on a personal level. But Alec radiates something that's not his apartment. His apartment is full of wood, open space and art pieces scattered beautifully on the walls with candles and plants. It's nearly aesthetically pleasing.

''I like your apartment,'' Magnus says, an escaped thought.

''Thank you,'' Alec says. ''Tea? Coffee?''

Magnus is still certain Alec would poison him. He has trust issues, someone would say. ''No, thank you.''

Alec nods, sitting down on the couch and patting the seat next to him. Magus takes a seat on another, singular smaller spot next to Alec. He stares at Alec for a short period of time before placing the book down, ''Tell me.''

''You'll have to specify. Tell you what?'' Alec leans back, seemingly a little bit too confident.

Magnus isn't really sure what he wants to know about the book. ''Just... Something. What's the authors' point? Arts and maths are on different ends of the spectrum, how do they co-exist? Or – or on page one-four-seven he talked about academic supremacism being too small of a concept for humans to grasp. ''

Alec leans forward, ''The default is that students who only expertise in maths and chemistry and you know, that only they're academically talented. Maybe he's just trying to challenge our way of thinking. Why only those people be fit in the academically talented category? Why not the boy who draws epic flowers or the person who makes art out of garbage?''

''Oh,'' Magnus takes in his words, ''Now I feel stupid. Of course, it's just challenging. That's what – How didn't I get that?''

Alec shrugs, ''You overthought things. Overthinking leads to the mind complicating things and making them bigger than they really are. Don't feel stupid.''

''I do. I will, maybe until I've burned the book. I've been spending three days trying to figure this out and you hand it to me on a silver platter in less than five minutes.''

''I'm good, like that,'' Alec says, casually. ''I'm good in a lot of other things, too.''

''I don't want to -''

''Like cooking,'' Alec interrupts.

Magnus huffs, ''I'm sure you are. Drawing, too? These art pieces are really nice, particularly for a person who paints with their non-dominant hand. You're really good.''

Alec stares at him for a second before cracking a smile, ''And why do you say that?''

''Uh, you have paint on your left hand but the sketch on the table has a pen on the right side. And nearly all of the paintings have A.L on the corner, I only assume that's for Alexander Lightwood?''

''Yeah, it is. How do you know my name, again?'' Alec licks his lips, squinting his eyes at Magnus.

Magnus shrugs, ''The mailman. I find you get a person to talk the best when they're lonely and you're nice to them.''

''Clever and gorgeous, a lethal combination,'' Alec says, fingers tapping the hand of his couch.

''Only in movies.''

Alec hums, staring at Magnus' shoulder and they fall into a small silence. An awkward one but nearly all interaction is awkward for Magnus. He takes his time eyeing the paintings, finding interest in a young male with dirty blond hair hanging on the side of Alec's television.

''I have to get going.''

Alec clenches his jaw, ''You want to get going. I refuse to accept you have somewhere you have to be at this time.''

''Yes, I want to get going,'' Magnus says. ''I've gotten what I came for. Thank you, for that,'' he says, getting up from the oddly comfortable couch. It looks as expensive as it feels. ''Thank you for the answers. I appreciate the en minutes and your art too, I hope you know how talented you are.''

''I do,'' Alec sighs as he walks Magnus up to the door, opening it with the mannerism of a gentleman, maybe just a little bit too close to Magnus' body. ''Have a fun night.''

Magnus returns to his apartment, heart slamming in an odd beat, yet still a calm one. He doesn't feel relief from understanding some part of the book but like there's a new, not so much of a barrier, on his chest. Just something with weight enough to push it down into his stomach.

He'll just have to figure out what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What chaper lenghts is good? This was only slightly over 3000, should I make em longer or shorter or is this good? Also, I'm aware some of this might be confusing at first but I'm trying to refer to the story as a puzzle and the chapters are just pieces. It'll all lock down.


End file.
